Ashes of Paradise
by GypsyDaydreamer
Summary: SLADIN, SLASH, AU.  It started as a simple mission to ensure an ally and ended with him falling in love, angering a nation's king, and kidnapping said king's only son. He knew he should have just stayed in Jump.
1. Sand and Stone

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the DC characters in this story, but I do own the plot and any faceless people who pop up here and there... they're sad little beings, those nameless people...

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><p><strong>AN:** Yes, I am alive, and yes, I should be put to death for starting another story when there's one already up here. But you know what? **Never Let You Go is officially on hiatus** until I figure out what the fuck I was planning on doing with it in the first place...

Okay, so **this is an AU**... -gasp- But don't worry, I'll fill you in on any confusing things, since there are different cultures and etiquette present here, along with my fucking insanity... it's kinda bumpy right now, but it gets better, I promise!

Anyway, on with the disappointment...

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><p><strong>Ashes of Paradise<strong>

**Chapter 1 : Sand and Stone**

General Slade Wilson had never cared for the desert. It was much too hot for his tastes and the sun seared his skin. The sand made it grueling to walk and the tiny grains streamed into his boots, crunching between his toes and irritating his skin. There never seemed to be a cloud in the sky to block out the blazing sun for even a split second, and telling one direction from another was nearly impossible.

Slade broke from his irritated mumbling and looked up at the palace that loomed before him, and he felt relief bubble up in his chest. Sweat dripped down his brow as he ushered his crew onward, his faithful adviser and friend William Wintergreen striding briskly at his side.

As the group of Americans approached the gates of the magnificent palace, a few tan-skinned men hurried towards them, and Wintergreen waved and shouted what Slade assumed was a greeting in their native tongue. The guards pushed the gates open and allowed them in, leading them across the landing and into the building.

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><p>The cool air of the shady palace was a welcome relief after spending nearly a week traveling across the sun-parched expanse of the Gotham desert. His men had complained the whole way about the sun, and it had taken the better portion of Slade's self-control to keep from slaughtering them, seeing as how he could not simply extinguish the fiery star on demand. They were warriors, dressed in thick leather and heavy armor, and the already sweat-inducing heat had nearly killed them all and made them a tasty snack for the buzzards.<p>

The men were escorted to the rooms they would be staying in while negotiations took place, and William joined Slade in his chambers when he had finished unpacking and changed into a clean tunic and trousers. The two men seated themselves in the lounge area of the large, open-floor chambers.

"There will be a feast held in our names later this evening," Wintergreen said, crossing his legs and smoothing his hair back. "As I have told you many, _many _times..." he fixed the one-eyed man with a pointed stare, "some of our customs are unfamiliar or even disrespectful here, so you must remain watchful."

"We've already discussed this and established that you are to assist me with translations and proper social behavior," Slade said flippantly, waving an uncaring hand, and Wintergreen glared at him with narrow, scolding eyes. He was used to the man's sometimes pompous attitude, but it would cause nothing but trouble with people who did not know him and were of a completely different culture.

"That's one of the things I'm talking about..." he mumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes while Slade continued.

"I have not studied their lifestyle and culture as you have, so I will be relying on you."

"Well, with all due respect, sir, you seem to struggle with listening during our lessons," Wintergreen smirked.

"Yes, well, I will listen," Slade snorted. "Just this once."

William barked out a laugh.

"Really though, Slade," the man said, turning serious. "Etiquette is very important here, so you must be extremely careful. Something as mundane as eating with the wrong hand could be taken as an insult."

"What is _wrong_ with these people?" Slade groaned, tipping his head back.

"_Slade_..." Wintergreen scolded, rolling his eyes and wondering why he must always be the mature one in such situations. "Please, I am trying to help you and keep you from insulting the man that will be one of our greatest assets."

"Fine," Slade said, locking their gazes, his single eye leveled. "What do I need to know?"

Just as Wintergreen opened his mouth to speak, the wooden double-doors of the room opened and a servant poked her head in. She spoke briefly, and Wintergreen nodded his head and replied before standing as the woman vanished, closing the door softly behind her.

"Looks like we don't have time for another lesson," he said, signaling for Slade to follow him. "It's time for dinner. Let's hope you paid enough attention to my previous teachings to make it through this meal alive."

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><p>It turned out that Slade had <em>not<em> paid enough attention.

When the two men were led into the dining room, Slade had made to sit, but Wintergreen grabbed his arm and scolded him.

"You don't choose your seat," he said, pulling him back. "You wait for the host to seat you."

When they were shown to their seats and given plates of rich fruits and meats, Slade lifted a forkful of the meat to his lips, chewing slowly before turning to his companion.

"Do they not have salt here?"

"It's considered rude to add salt to your meal," William informed him, munching on a piece of juicy mango. "It's an insult to the host."

Slade found himself growing increasingly tense throughout the meal, especially when he was scolded by a knowledgeable Wintergreen. He had made to turn down a second helping when his plate was clean, but Wintergreen informed him that it was a sincere compliment to accept another helping, so he had.

"Leave of bit of food on your plate when you're done," the man said. "That way they don't keep filling it up for you."

Slade nodded dumbly and followed Wintergreen's directions. He felt stupid and out of place, something that he hated, but he couldn't exactly do anything about it at this moment. He was even further demoted when he felt pride in himself when William informed him that it was indeed correct to eat with the right hand. Oh, what a clever man he is.

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><p>"I'll try harder to listen to you during lessons, I promise," Slade murmured lowly when the plates were taken away and the two were led into what appeared to be a lounge.<p>

Groups of people were scattered about, gathered around small tables and seated on plush, beautifully embroidered pillows. They spoke and laughed, but Slade was unable to catch much more than a few simple words here and there since he only knew the bare basics of their language.

They were escorted by two servants, one male and one female, to a table that sat at the back of the room on a slightly raised platform. A tall, heavily-muscled man was seated there, along with a few others. His raven hair was cropped short, his eyes an almost black shade of blue, and he was dressed in long, thin robes.

"That is Bruce Wayne," Wintergreen told him. "The ruler of this land."

"Ah, William, how wonderful it is to see you again," Bruce spoke in fluent English as he stood to greet his guests. They clasped their hands in a loose hold and leaned forward to kiss one another's cheeks. "And General Wilson, I presume."

"Shake his hand and hold eye contact," William whispered in his ear. "But don't kiss his cheeks. That's a greeting reserved for friends, not acquaintances. Remember to smile."

Slade did as he was told, shaking the man's hand and smiling a smile that he hoped was inviting as he maintained eye contact. He was tired and overwhelmed with the rather strict and unfamiliar etiquette, and he wasn't sure if he had it in him to give off a friendly vibe.

"Please, sit." Bruce gestured to the pillows before him, and the two Americans seated themselves across from the broad male. "I am pleased to have you here," he said. "Your gifts are very much appreciated, William. Fine taste, as always."

"Oh, please," Wintergreen smiled, "it's but a formality among friends."

Slade tried to pay attention to the two men as they talked, but he found his eye straying to the rest of the room. His attention was drawn mainly to the divine tapestry that was strung behind Bruce's table. It was woven beautifully with delicate, flowing designs that swept across the surface. It's many colors was a stark contrast to the off-white stone that the palace of constructed of.

He sighed, quickly covering it as a cough in case that would also be considered disrespectful, and looked over at Wintergreen. The two men were engaged in an intense reminiscent conversation, having gone from English to Gotham's native tongue somewhere along the line.

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><p>"So negotiations will be held later this week," Bruce concluded, and Slade nodded approvingly. "I will send a servant with correct times."<p>

"Of course, thank you." Slade shook the man's hand again. "We greatly appreciate your time."

"Father?"

The men turned at the soft voice, and Slade's throat suddenly went completely dry when his eye landed on the owner. Standing in the doorway was the most ethereal creature he had ever laid eyes on. The boy was in his teens, though he was a bit on the small side. Delicate muscles were woven together under flawless alabaster skin that was unusual for such a sun-riddled climate. Also odd were the large azure eyes that were lined with thick lashes and seemed to be made from pools of Caribbean waters, a stark difference to the dark orbs that were common in the area. His hair was short and gave midnight a run for its money, falling across his forehead in shaggy wisps. He was dressed in short white robes that fell from his shoulders and was tied at the waist by thin gold chains, while his feet were bare.

"Ah, Robin," Bruce smiled at the boy, ushering him forward. "Come meet General Wilson."

"Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you," Robin said in perfect English, bowing deeply and gazing at them with wide, shining eyes. "William, how lovely it is to see you again!"

"And it is wonderful to see you also, little Robin," Wintergreen said with a warm smile, and he kissed the boy's pale cheeks as they shook hands. "My, how you've grown."

Robin blushed under the man's gaze, and he smiled widely. He turned and spoke briefly with his father in their native tongue, the sharp, heavy language sounding airy and musical when spoken from the boy's lips.

"Well, it is time to be going," Bruce said with a small smile. "I'm sure our guests are very tired and would like to rest. Come, Robin."

Bruce shook their hands one more time before turning and heading down the corridor to his chambers, four servants following obediently in his wake.

"Goodnight, William, General Wilson." Robin bowed slightly and smiled slyly at the white-haired man, blue eyes peering at him from under dark lashes before straightening and padding away.

Slade grinned stupidly, earning an elbow in the ribs from a disapproving Wintergreen. He scowled at his companion, but went back to grinning when he saw Robin look over his shoulder and wave his pretty fingers at him before he disappeared from view.

"You don't stare at the king's only son like he's some two-cent prostitute, Slade..." Wintergreen groaned, wondering how he had gotten stuck training this hopeless old dog. "That's just common courtesy in _every_ culture."

Slade ignored him, instead opting to burn the picture of the beautiful boy into his memory.

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><p>The men didn't realize how exhausted they were until they were dismissed and hurried by servants to their chambers to rest. They bid each other goodnight, William heading to his own room across from Slade's. Slade happily entered his own quarters, closing the wooden doors firmly behind him.<p>

He sighed and brushed his hair back with a hand before trudging over to the large canopy bed pressed against the wall between two carved windows. His clothes fell to floor like a trail of breadcrumbs along the way, and he slipped under the cream-colored sheets, the light cotton soft and cool against his tanned skin.

The white-haired American felt sleep cloud the edges of his vision, his mind overwhelmed with the past few weeks of travel and the struggles of fitting in with the new culture and etiquette of Gotham. His single dark eye slipped closed, and he cleared his thoughts in the hopes to fall asleep faster, as he felt he would need it for the coming days.

Slade was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, his dreams filled with sprawling stone palaces and exotic blue-eyed beauties.

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><p><strong>AN:** So the dining rules and what not are actually based off Egyptian culture, since I felt that the desert kingdom of Gotham fit that best... even the whole 'eating the with the right hand' thing is true. Apparently in Egypt, there's not much you can actually do (in public) with your left hand. :/

Anyway, this failure at culturing the fandom aside... -dodges bullets- It's not terribly bad, right? I actually have a full outline for this one, so it won't end up on hiatus...

God this is short. -cough- The others will be longer.

Cookies for reviews!


	2. Cats and Kisses

**A/N: **What'd I tell ya? I can update! I mean _barely_... but it happened nonetheless! This chapter isn't insanely time-consuming, but it's long enough I suppose, around eight pages.

I've been playing around with a few different drabbles, and **I intend to delete Deliciously Decadent Drabbles **(atrocious title and all) in order to edit and revise the present ones (read: two drabbles) and upload some new ones. Take a look at the bottom note to see some summaries of upcoming drabbles!

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><p><strong>Ashes of Paradise<strong>

**Chapter 2: Cats and Kisses**

Slade spent the next day exploring the palace grounds, dressed in a light tunic and trousers, free of his usual protective leather and armor. His dark grey eye wandered freely, his hands crammed in his pockets as he meandered down the naturally-lit halls of the sprawling estate.

He found, by running his hand along the wall, that the magnificent palace was constructed of white limestone, most likely harvested from the banks of the river. The surface was smooth and cool to the touch, and there were lines of windows carved in to illuminate the building in the daytime.

Stepping out into the courtyard, Slade blinked up at the sun, the bright rays warm against his skin. He rolled the sleeves of his tunic up to his elbows as he walked along the stone path, nodding absently as two servants greeted him – or at least he thought it was a greeting - politely as they passed.

The courtyard was a jungle-like chunk of land that was located in the center of the palace and stretched along to the outside. It was filled with lush, green plants and bright, vibrant flowers. A few trees reached for the sky, some of them having branches that were laden with heavy fruits of varying colors and shapes. Sunlight filtered through the broad leaves in blotchy patches, shining down on the people who walked happily along the smooth stone paths that wove through the flora. There were stone benches littered here and there, and Slade noticed a few rooms that also led out to the courtyard that appeared to be open-floor lounges and dining areas.

"Well, hello, General Wilson."

Slade looked over to his right, spotting the young prince Robin resting upon the ledge of one of the carved windows. There was a massive green beast lounging below him, head raised so the teen could run his hand gently along the crown of its broad skull. Its odd green fur was broken with long black stripes that wound around its muscled frame. Its muzzle was short and a pair of small, round ears swiveled atop its head.

"Please, call me Slade, Your Highness," Slade greeted, bowing deeply and keeping his eye trained on the green feline. Such an animal did not reside in America, let alone the town of Jump, and it looked rather dangerous with its thickly muscled body and long, sharp teeth.

"And you may call me Robin," the teen said, smiling. "My father is much more formal than me, so such a title outside of business is not necessary. Would you care to join me?" He gestured to the small, low table that was set up in the middle of the little lounge. Two women were placing bowls of colorful fruits and a plate of what Slade assumed were cheeses on the table.

"I would be honored." Slade lowered himself onto the plush pillow across from the raven-haired prince, who smiled warmly at him.

Robin and the servants exchanged a few words in their native tongue, and Slade found himself watching the teen's full lips form the foreign words. When the angelic face those pink lips were connected to turned to him as the tan-skinned servants departed with a bow, the man diverted his attention from staring at his mouth to the green beast.

"If I may, Robin," Slade started, waving a hand at the giant feline whose head lay in the teen's lap, "what is that?"

"Oh, this is a tiger," Robin laughed, a musical noise that made Slade's heart flutter oddly. "His name is Garfield. You do not have them in America, I presume?"

"No," Slade said, looking the purring creature up and down. "We have felines of course, but only small ones, both domestic and wild. The largest is the puma, but even that is only a fraction of your... _tiger_."

"Interesting," Robin said, daintily picking a piece of bright orange mango and lifting it to his lips. Slade observed as the fruit was split, sweet juices dripping down into the awaiting mouth before the lips closed as he chewed. "Is America as beautiful as they say?"

"Hm?" Slade raised his eye to meet Robin's brilliant baby-blues. He saw amusement sparkling in their endless depths, and he figured he had missed something.

"I asked if America is as beautiful as they say..." the little bird said, a smile brightening his features.

"Oh, yes, I suppose it is. Not as beautiful as your country, per se, but it has its share of desirable sights and architecture."

Robin nodded as he nibbled on a piece of cheese. He offered a slice to a very content Garfield, and Slade couldn't help but smile as he munched on a plump strawberry. They conversed casually, exchanging stories of their native countries and the inhabitants and culture until the bowls were emptied and cleared from the table.

"Your father is quite the man, being able to rule over an entire country and still keep the peace," Slade said, crossing his forearms on the smooth wooden surface of the table and leaning into them. "I'd be a serial killer by now if I had to deal with so many people complaining to me all the time."

"Yes, he is definitely good at what he does!" Robin laughed, tucking a stray lock of midnight-black silk behind his ear. "Honestly, I am not exactly looking forward to taking on that torch when the time comes."

"Really?" Slade quirked a brow as he took a sip of tea from his cup. "I'm sure you'd be a wonderful leader."

"Yes, but... I am just worried." Robin raised the hand that stroked Garfield's head to wrap them both around his own cup. "Like what if I am not as good as my father? I do not think I could handle a whole nation of angry people."

"Well, there's no need to worry about that at this moment, now is there?" Slade smiled slightly. "Bruce seems like a resilient man. I'm sure it will be awhile before he's ready to give up the throne. And when he does, you'll be a magnificent leader."

Robin's blue eyes widened in surprise before he absolutely _beamed_, and Slade knew he had said the right thing.

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><p>"So where do you hail from, General?" Robin asked as the two strolled along one of the courtyard paths. He waved and smiled as a woman and child passed them, his eyes alight with happiness.<p>

"Jump," Slade said, gazing up through the green leaves. "It's a growing town along the coast of California, a young state in America. It's quite wonderful there."

"I wish I could travel," Robin sighed, "but my father is so protective that I am not even allowed to leave the palace..."

Slade peered down at his companion, seeing his pretty face soften with a wistful disappointment, and he wondered how the boy would react if he touched him. He thought about it for a moment before reaching out and taking the small, pale hand into his own large, sun-kissed one, hoping it would be taken as a move of comfort, not romance. Though he supposed he wouldn't mind if it was taken as one of romance...

Robin looked up at him in astonishment before smiling gently and giving his hand a little squeeze. Slade thought the boy would let go, but they continued to walk hand in hand, and he was pleasantly surprised when he intertwined their fingers. Now that he bothered to think of it, he vaguely remembered from one of Wintergreen's teachings - wouldn't his advisor be proud - that Gotham was a very sociable country based off touch and companionship.

"Why don't you just ask your father to let you go?"

"I have!" Robin exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "But... he worries so much that something is going to happen to me because I am just this delicate china doll to him. I know he wants what is best for me... but it is driving me mad!"

Slade squeezed the little hand comfortingly and Robin returned the gesture, letting out a deep sigh. He withdrew his hand from the hold they maintained, and Slade suddenly felt cold and lonely even though he was still in the boy's presence. He scrubbed at his blue eyes, whether in sadness or irritation, the man didn't know.

"Why am I telling you all this?" Robin huffed, peering up at him from between his thin fingers with wide, shining eyes. "I barely know you..."

Slade didn't have an answer to that, so he just held the raven's gaze. They remained silent for a moment, staring into one another's eyes before Robin looked away, cheeks flushing ruby in embarrassment. He brushed his hair from his forehead and wrung his hands anxiously. Why was the man looking at him like that?

"I should be going. I am sure my father is wondering where I am..." he said, big azure eyes flicking to his own single grey before turning back to his clasped hands.

"Yes, I'm sure he is..."

As Robin turned to leave, Slade made a impulsive move, something he rarely did. He reached out and grabbed the teen's wrist, pulling him into his strong arms. Robin's eyes were huge as he instinctively placed his hands on the Slade's broad chest, fingers curling in the rough fabric of his tunic.

The man slowly leaned down, giving Robin the opportunity to refuse him. When he didn't push him away, Slade smiled ever so slightly before meshing their lips together in a gentle kiss. There was a warmth there that made them both shiver, but it remained chaste. When he pulled back, Robin was staring at him with shocked eyes, a hand raised to touch his full lips.

"I-I really must be going, General..." Robin stuttered, panicked, and Slade felt worry bubble up in his chest, coiling into a tight knot. Had he misjudged the boy and scared him away?

"Wait, Robin, I-"

But the little prince was already gone, hurrying down the path with his sheer white robes and massive green tiger trailing behind him.

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><p>Slade sighed and kicked at a little rock that sat innocently on the path. It skittered across the white limestone before flying off the edge and tumbling into the grass. The man stared at the pebble for a moment before shaking his head and rolling his eye, looking up at the cloudless sky as if it would solve all his problems.<p>

"I shouldn't have done that," he mumbled to himself, jamming his hands in the pockets of his loose trousers and trekking on. He turned into the palace and headed down the hall towards his room, sighing deeply every now and again. "I shouldn't have kissed him..."

Closing the double-doors firmly behind him, Slade flopped down onto the king-sized canopy bed and burying his face in one of the pillows with a groan. He rolled over to look at the fabric that was draped over the canopy frame, the long edges hanging from the corners and swaying gently in the breeze that flowed through the windows.

He focused on the cotton ties as he tried to clear his thoughts, but it seemed that every time he did, his mind's eye drifted straight back to Gotham's prince and the tiny kiss they had shared. He allowed his train of thought to settle on him, wondering why he found himself so attracted to the teen, enough to lay hands on him when it was obviously inappropriate. He was there to win over Bruce Wayne, not molest his only son.

Slade conjured up a mental image of Prince Robin, thinking about his flawless alabaster skin and the way his loose midnight curls tumbled into those impossibly blue eyes; the way his hips were rounded in a subtle curve, abdominal muscles trained to lay flat under the pale skin; the way his long lashes fluttered when he blinked into the sun, the warm rays flushing his cheeks and bared shoulders a rosy pink... the boy was a favorite of the gods, that much he knew, and it was apparent that they took their sweet time sculpting him and perfecting his beauty before sending him down to earth.

But there was more beyond that pretty face. There was a sparkle in those large eyes that left Slade wondering what the supposedly proper prince was really like, because this sure as hell wasn't all of him. Sure, the little Gothamite was very polite and soft-spoken, just as he was taught to behave in such a high society, but there was a glimmer of mischief and defiance in those wide, bright eyes, something that a man like Slade could appreciate.

Hell, he had caught a glimpse of that lively sparkle while they shared lunch. Robin had been alive with energy as he spoke of his country and the myths and culture that stemmed from it. His hands were constantly animated, moving in large, fast gestures, and his blue eyes were huge and alight with excitement. That was the true Robin, a creature of passion and love, someone who required physical touch and emotional connections. He thrived in the right environment, but this definitely wasn't said environment. He needed open space and adventure, and it was easy to see that the boy was bored after sixteen years of roaming the Gotham palace.

Slade could no doubt provide more adequate conditions that the little bird would flourish under. He had access to boats and horses, as travel was a mundane and regular occurrence. He could show the sheltered teen foreign countries and beautiful monuments. There were so many things out there that would no doubt enamor the boy, as he was obviously infatuated with the big world beyond the palace grounds, and Slade found himself wanting to see the prince completely unrestrained.

But Slade had gotten ahead of himself. For someone like Robin, fiery and wild, spontaneity was expected. But with a man like Slade, decisions were normally processed logically before being put into action. The kiss he had initiated been an impulsive decision on Slade's part, and he was worried that he had seriously messed up this time.

He groaned and folded the pillow over his head, mentally berating himself for making such a foolish move. Robin was young and most likely wasn't ready for something romantically intimate, even if it was completely innocent. He knew there was a good chance that he blew whatever chances he had with the ebony-haired teen, if he had even had one in the first place, and that meant he had definitely screwed himself over with the negotiations with the king that would soon take place.

"Fuck, what do I do?"

"Oh no, who did you piss off now?"

Slade bolted upright, teeth clamping together and lips forming a thin line. He looked at Wintergreen with a guilt-filled eye, and the other man cringed when he noticed it.

"What? I didn't do anything."

Wintergreen narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He could still see the odd mixture of guilt and anger in that single eye, and he knew that Slade was lying to him.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I swear to God, Slade, if you did something that pissed off or _will _piss off Bruce Wayne, I will destroy you."

Slade ground his teeth together, weighing his options. On on hand, if he told William what had happened, then perhaps he could help him solve the problem, even if he was seriously scolded while doing so. But on the other hand, he could keep his mouth shut and hide the evidence, which would most likely mean killing the prince of Gotham in order to spare himself. Then again, that would probably make the situation worse...

"Alright, so maybe there is _one_ thing..."

"And what would that be?" Wintergreen raised a brow as he settled himself in one of the chairs in the lounge. Slade followed him, taking the seat across from him and stretching his legs out, crossing his ankles.

"I may have made a move on Robin..." Slade said, clasping his hands in his lap.

Wintergreen was silent for a moment.

"Robin... as in Prince Robin?"

Slade nodded, feeling a tinge of worry bubble up in his chest. If there was one thing he knew about his old friend, it was that he took his job very seriously. William was usually a very laid-back and level-headed man, but when it came to his job with the American Armed Forces, he was stone-serious and quite critical.

"You made a move on the only son of the man who would be one of our most valuable allies?" William asked slowly, and Slade couldn't help but think the man looked and sounded as if he had suffered a stroke. "You do realize that if Bruce finds out, he will kill you, right?"

Slade frowned but nodded again in affirmation.

"Yes, and I was hoping that you could help me solve this dilemma," the white-haired man said. "I want these negotiations to work out just as much as you do. Believe me when I say that this wasn't exactly planned."

"Alright, we can get through this..." Wintergreen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had hoped that the plan would go off without a hitch, but he should have known that things never quite worked out like that when one Slade Wilson was involved. "Well, first off... what 'move' did you make?"

"I kissed him."

Wintergreen's right eye twitched oddly, and Slade worried that his friend suffered yet another stroke.

"A kiss..."

"There was no tongue or groping involved, if that's what you're thinking," Slade stated.

"Well, I suppose that makes it a little better," Wintergreen sighed. "How did he react?"

"I thought it went well, but when I pulled back, he rushed off, saying his father would be worried if he was gone for long." Slade scrubbed a hand over his face and ran it through his thick hair. "I don't know why I did it, Will, really I don't. We had lunch and shared some stories, and I felt more relaxed then I have in a long time."

Wintergreen nodded, signaling for him to continue.

"After Addie, I never really felt an emotional connection with anybody, and even with her it was mainly just lust and loneliness that brought us together. But after talking to Robin... I don't know, I just felt like there was something there, something deeper than just small-talk."

"You're infatuated with the boy." Wintergreen leaned back in his chair, smirking. "I never thought I'd see the day that General Slade Wilson developed a schoolboy crush on a teenager."

"Shut up," Slade snapped, brows creasing. "There _was _something in that kiss. _I_ felt it and I know _he_ felt it too. Why else would he flee?"

"Perhaps he just didn't want to be felt up by a dirty old man?"

"Oh, you think you're so clever, don't you?" Slade snorted, and Wintergreen continued to smirk at him.

"Why yes, yes I do."

Wintergreen grinned and Slade's own lips twitched slightly. As if a switch was hit, they both grew serious, smiles gone and brows furrowed in thought. They remained silent for a few minutes, both men lost in their own thoughts.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" Wintergreen inquired, breaking the silence.

"Yes, of course," Slade nodded.

"I think you should talk to Robin before you go crying to Bruce for forgiveness."

"I wasn't going to-"

"If there _was_ something in that kiss as you said before, and if he really did feel it, then you both need to know." Wintergreen fixed him with a hard stare.

Slade paused and mulled over his old friend's words, contemplating possible strategies and plans. Wintergreen seemed to sense this, as he smirked, shaking his head.

"Keep it simple, Slade. You're not going into battle," he said, chuckling slightly at the offended look on the other man's face. "Robin's just a kid, and mostly likely a startled and confused kid at this point. You're going to have to be careful. Don't make some hugely unnecessary deal over this or you'll just scare him even more and Bruce will no doubt notice."

"And we don't want that..." Slade murmured, nodding his head in understanding. "Okay, so I'll just go talk to him, explain why I kissed him without any stunts."

"Good man," Wintergreen grinned, standing and slapping his back heartily when they stood.

Slade went to go hunt down Gotham's prince, but a large hand on his shoulder stopped him as he was reaching out to open the door. He turned, and Wintergreen leaned in close, an arm over the one-eyed man's shoulder.

"One more thing, old friend..." he said, suddenly becoming dark and serious. "Robin's a really sweet kid, Slade, and I've known him since he was tiny," he cracked a small smile. "So along with Bruce, if you hurt that poor boy? Well, let's just say it's a big desert and it would be hard to find one lone body out there."

Slade nodded in an uncomfortable jerking motion before stepping out from under Wintergreen's arm and hurrying into the hall, wondering when he had began to rub off on his normally agreeable friend.

"Let's hope this works..." he murmured to himself, straightening his tunic and smoothing his hair back. "More for my sake than Robin's."

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><p><strong>AN:** There are no words to describe how horrible of an ending this is. But hey, Beast Boy's here (kinda)! -flees-

Anyway, upcoming drabbles that are nearly complete:

**1. Forget Me Not**

The mission was supposed to be a simple one. Or so they thought. Now Slade is gone, and Robin's left to pick up the pieces and try to bring his husband back.

Pairing: Sladin

Genre/warnings: Serious sadfacing with lots of fluff thrown in to balance it off. Takes place somewhere in **Wynja's Terms-Universe**, I suppose.

**2. Scales**

Captain Slade Wilson is enrolled to capture a mermaid... but he finds himself drawn to the beautiful creature. What will he do when he has to give him up to Blood?

Pairing: Sladin, little bit of indirect Blood/Robin

Genre/warnings: AU! Some dirty language due to an irritated Robin and a few boy-kisses, but nothing graphic.

_Review please!_


	3. Acacia and Assault

**A/N: **OHMIGAWD YOU GAIZ. I FOUND MY FLASH DRIVE.

So, obviously I've been missing for awhile, and it was all because I lost my fucking flash drive. I am known for having a terrible record for losing every single thing I have ever owned at least once, and I nearly had a stroke when I couldn't find my drive. Luckily, just today, I found it in one of my Batman Converse. Wtf is that? I guess I dropped it or something and it fell in my sneaker, and the sneaker was in my way so I pushed it under my bed, only to never see them again.

And here we are.

Anyway, I now have my flash, so we're all good, and I have sooooo many things to upload! Mostly one-shots, so don't get your hopes up for anything significant or something... besides requests of course. :)

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><p><strong>Ashes of Paradise<strong>

**Chapter 3: Acacia and Assault**

Robin remembered the day he first discovered the large acacia tree in the courtyard. He had been about eight years old, a wild little child seeking adventure and excitement within the palace walls, which could be a trouble. He had been playing in the center of the courtyard and almost plowed straight into the newly planted tree. It only took a few moment of staring before the tiny child realized that yes, the branch placement was perfect for climbing, and yes, the junctures were perfect for lounging and napping.

Ten years later and he still used the tall tree as a sort of haven. His room was his secondary haven, of course, but it was harder for servants to find him when they never thought to look up. His petite form was obscured by the little leaves and tiny, aromatic flowers, and he found the heady scent to be therapeutic.

Robin plucked one of the white flowers from the branch he rested on, bringing it to his nose and inhaling. He looked at it, twirling the bloom between his fingers before sighing and uncurling his digits, watching as it was carried away by a light breeze, fluttering and spinning. He smiled slightly to himself when it landed, cushioned in a bed of vibrant magenta desert-roses.

He loved this place with all his heart. It was only his, a somewhat solitary hiding place for him to just lay back and think without any interruptions, even if it would earn him a scolding from his father if he was needed for any reason. It was his sanctuary.

So when Slade came barreling down the stone path, one could imagine that the little bird was surprised. He peered down as the man stopped beneath the tree, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and mumbling to himself.

"Fuck, where is that kid?"

Now Robin didn't know what 'fuck' meant, but judging by the way it was spoken, he could safely assume it was a word of negative origins. He tensed up a bit, knowing that Slade was most likely using this 'fuck' to curse him for running away after they shared such an intimate moment. He briefly flirted with the idea of climbing down to speak with the general, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

Slade sighed below him before continuing down the jungle path, his boots clomping dully against the white limestone.

Robin bit his lip and curled into himself, feeling Garfield drop his long tail to curl around his neck from his perch on the branch above him. He played absently with the soft green fur, running his slim fingers along the bold stripes.

A warm breeze ruffled his hair and the flora around him, the strong flood of acacia blossoms releasing a string of memories, memories that reminded him of the reason he needed to protect Slade.

_Red ran a tanned hand through Robin's hair, the silky midnight tresses slipping easily through his fingers. He tussled the raven curls and leaned down to press a tender kiss to the younger boy's forehead. His lips lingered on the soft, pale skin before ghosting down to the plump pink lips that awaited him._

_Robin sighed contentedly and raised his arms to wrap around his man's neck, pulling him as close as they could get in this position. A bubbling warmness rose in his chest, and he smiled into the kiss, causing Red to smile back at him. They laughed at one another, their foreheads resting together as they shared the same breath, the same life._

"_My father is probably wondering where I am... I was supposed to be back quite awhile ago..." Robin murmured, his words being squished between their lips._

"_He's a big boy..." Red said, hands wandering down the thin fabric that draped over the younger male's thin frame. "He'll be fine without you. Right now, you're _allmine_..."_

_Robin squirmed as the redhead's calloused hand ran down the length of his slim thigh, the other supporting his neck. The teen turned his head away from the probing lips, pressing his face into Red's firm stomach. He rolled onto his side, his head resting on the man's thigh, nose buried in the clean cotton of his robes._

"_Red, you and I both know he will come looking for me if I am gone too long..." Robin said, rolling his brilliant blue eyes when the green-eyed teen mumbled under his breath. "Unless you would like to move this to your room, where he will not find us...?"_

"_Disobeying father?" Red chuckled, feigning disbelief. His hot breath rolled over the younger boy's ear, causing him to giggle and turn his head upwards to escape the teeth that nipped at the shell. "Oh, my darling little rebel..."_

_The couple rolled from Robin's bed and ran down the hall, giggling and holding hands like the young, love-struck teens they were. Their hair and robes whipped around them, bare feet slapping against the limestone as they stumbled into Red's chambers, the doors slamming closed behind them._

_Red pressed Robin to the wood, their lips seeking the other's out and melding together. The older teen's hands slowly slid through Robin's robes, nimble fingers making quick work of the golden clasp on the raven's right shoulder that held the cloth to his form. The sheer fabric slid fluidly down the silky skin, pooling at his ankles._

_Robin peered slyly at his lover from under his lashes, standing their in all his glory and shifting under Red's hungry gaze. When the redhead completed his scan, he reached forward and took the boy into his arms, planning to truly appreciate the beautiful creature before him._

"_Bed?" Red murmured against the other teen's neck, breath coming out in hot, humid puffs. He felt Robin nod, and they hurriedly made their way across the room, falling onto the large bed in a tangle of limbs._

"_You are a bit overdressed..." Robin gasped as the servant bit down lightly on his collarbone, nibbling and suckling until blood rose to the surface of the porcelain flesh, forming a little love-bite._

_Red agreed heartily and began to strip, tossing the thin layers to the stone floor. When he was completely rid of the airy material, the man's lips curled into a grin that reminded Robin of Garfield when he stalked the little birds that flitted about the sprawling palace. The grin only intensified, complimented by lust-darkened eyes, when Robin blushed, cheeks flooding with a liquid-ruby essence._

_Lips found their way to heated skin once again, and Robin moaned as Red's white teeth bit down on a dusky nipple, taking the pert bud into his mouth and suckling gently. He blew cool air over it before treating its twin to the same, smiling as his young lover trembled and mewled beneath his skilled mouth._

_Red raised his head to lock their lips in a scorching kiss before sliding down the perfect body. He looked upon the blue-eyed boy's weeping erection with dark, appreciative eyes. He reached out to stroke the twitching flesh, whispering a gravely "beautiful" before pressing a loving kiss to the head._

_Robin threw his head back and screamed as the copper-haired teen took him fully into his mouth, wrapping his fingers lightly around the base and sucking. Red smiled around the Gothamite's cock and chuckled, sending pleasant vibrations through his writhing form. He swirled his tongue around the tip, pressing the slick muscle into the slit and making Robin cry out._

_Red groaned at the hypnotizing sounds his lover emitted, feeling his needy, rock-hard cock spurt a bit of pre-cum. He bucked and pulled back to regain a bit more control over himself, instead moving his lips to the soft, trembling thighs that he rested between. The redhead nipped at the pale skin, flicking out his tongue and tasting the delectable skin. The smooth surface was a bit salty from sweat, but also harbored a rather odd natural flavor, like unsweetened cocoa. He found that he rather enjoyed this flavor and began to suckle the sensitive skin with renewed enthusiasm._

_Robin noticed this and giggled, the happy little sound tapering off into a pleasured moan. He wrapped his legs around the man's neck, steering him away from his thighs before tugging him up, meshing their lips together. The teen found it erotic that he could taste himself on Red's tongue, and he moaned when he felt the older male's hot essence drip onto his skin._

"_R-Red..."_

_The teen gazed at Robin, taking in his mussed appearance. It made him feel proud that he was able to ruffle the little bird's feathers, make him lose control in such a way. He touched his cheek gently, running calloused fingertips down the reddened skin, wispy midnight curls surrounding his head like a dark halo. Half-lidded eyes, deep like the ocean but bright like the sky, peered up at him, glazed and begging._

_Red's own moss-green orbs locked with baby-blue, and he lowered himself back between his legs, cradled tightly between slender thighs. He rocked forward, creating delicious friction as their bare skin rubbed together, sparking like flint to steel. The sensation went straight to their groins, spurring them on as pleasure echoed through their systems._

_Robin reached over to the bedside table where a little wooden chest sat. He flicked the gold clasp open and reached inside, retrieving a little glass vial of light pink liquid with trembling hands. Red accepted the tube, kissing the slim fingers that held it. He twisted the cork out and tossed it back into the chest before settling back on his heels, his erection curving up towards his sculpted abs, bobbing and leaking with need._

_Robin's eyes fluttered at the sight before he was flipped over, his own cock trapped uncomfortably between his belly and the mattress. He shifted a bit, whimpering and squirming as Red moved about behind him. A warm, fluid sensation spread over the small of his back, extending towards his shoulders and down to his ass._

_A single hand swept over his back, spreading the pink oil over the flawless surface of the teen's pale skin. The other hand replaced the vial back in the wooden chest to be refilled later before moving to join its twin. He carefully ran his hands along Robin's spine, following the gentle curve, and he planted a tender kiss at the base of the slim neck._

_This earned a little mewl of appreciation, and Red smiled against his neck as he kneaded the delicate muscles, feeling them melt and relax under the skin. He continued south, rubbing circles into his hips and lower back before cupping Robin's ass. He massaged the perfect, round muscle, drinking in the light, airy sighs and moans that dripped from his lover's plump pink lips._

_The redhead pressed a final kiss to the prince's neck as he slipped a finger past his fluttering entrance, spreading the warm, sweetly-scented oil until the tight ring of muscle loosened and allowed him to breech. He added another, wincing at the short cry that escaped Robin's lips, muffled a bit by the pillow he had buried his face in. A third finger opened him completely, and Red pressed their bodies together in order to collect more lubricant, hurriedly coating his painfully hard cock, the swollen length nearly purple with need._

_Red flipped his lover once again, spreading his cheeks and guiding his leaking cock to his entrance, the blunt head pressed flush to the clenching ring. He looked at Robin with worried eyes, but the teen smiled warmly at him before dragging him down into a fiery kiss, their tongues tangling together as the younger boy grasped his erection and urged it into him, the bulbous head invading his passage and tearing a strangled cry from his lips._

_Robin broke the kiss and threw his head back, lips parting as he gasped in lungfuls of air. Red bit his tongue and continued to push in until he was fully sheathed. He groaned deeply as the blazing heat clenched down on him in a milking vice-grip. He didn't move, no matter how badly he wanted to, watching as Robin adjusted to the thick, pulsating intrusion._

_The black-haired bird cracked a brilliant blue eye open, nodding for him to move. Red smiled softly at him and littered kisses along his soft jawline as he pulled back before thrusting back in. His muscles tensed with the raw need to thoroughly violate the stunning beauty beneath him, but he held back in order to spare Robin the pain._

_Robin moaned wantonly, raising his hips and rocking to meet each other the long-haired teen's thrusts. His hands danced along his muscled arms before coming to rest on his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Nails dug into the skin of his shoulder-blades, but the little stabs of pain were easily squashed under the intense pleasure that was tearing through his veins._

_The little bird retracted his nails, bucking his hips and arching, his cock leaking and begging to be touched. Robin indulged this need and wrapped a hand around his weeping length, crying out and rolling his hips into his fist. Pre-cum dripped over his fingers, little pearly drops growing larger as the knot of white-hot pleasure built up, pushing him closer and closer to the edge._

_Red was bucking wildly at this point, driven to near-madness from the sight of his beautiful lover touching himself, beyond-blue eyes half-lidded and parted lips swollen and panting. He didn't dare close his eyes for the fear of missing a single moment of the natural sensuality that Robin seemed to ooze._

_Robin's scream of pleasure melded with his own animalistic roar as they tumbled over the edge together. Red's hands tightened around the Gothamite's hips, fingers digging into pale skin and pressing against prominent bone. The bird's thighs locked around his waist and his inner walls clamped down on him so tightly it was nearing painful, milking him for all he was worth. He shot rope of after of hot cum into the boy's convulsing passage, their orgasms overtaking them so strongly that they didn't hear the doors to the chamber swing open._

_Red yelped in alarm as his shoulder was grabbed by a large, strong hand, the muscles protesting as he was flung off the messy-haired teen and onto the stone floor. He hurriedly scrambled to his feet, ready to fight off whoever dared intrude on the clearly intimate moment he was sharing with his bird. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and horror when a seething Bruce Wayne fixed him with the most hate-filled glare he had ever witnessed._

_Robin cried out to his lover, grabbing the white sheets from the bed and wrapping them around his petite frame. He reached out for his father as the towering man stalked towards the exposed and defensive Red. He could tell that the redhead was ready to fight for the right to lay with Robin, but the young prince wasn't about to let him be killed._

"_Father!" Robin called, grabbing the enraged king's hand with one of his own, the other holding the sheets firmly to his naked body. "Please! Stop!"_

_Bruce ignored his son, merely tearing his hand from the tight hold. His navy-blue eyes narrowed to pinpricks as he made to grasp Red by the neck, but Robin once again took hold of him, wrapping his own thin arms around the reaching once. He clung to the muscled appendage, tugging and urging his father down with calm words._

_The man snarled and whipped around, his clenched fist making contact with the teen's face. He was flung to the ground with the force of the blow, intense pain shadowing his vision as his head spun. He pushed himself up onto one elbow, tenderly cupping his right cheek with a delicate hand. The area seemed to pulsate in time with the erratic beating of his heart, and he raised pained blue eyes to meet the blazing green orbs of Red._

_The young man's lips curled back and he lunged at Bruce, both of them swinging and spitting like wild animals. The redhead landed a solid punch to Bruce's jaw, nearly knocking out a few perfect white teeth and sending blood misting across the floor when said teeth clamped down on his tongue. The man growled and kicked him back, raising to loom over the sprawled form. He grabbed the teen by the throat, lifting him into the air, but released him when Red threw a fist upwards, catching him in the jaw._

_A few servants and wandering bystanders had gathered at the door at this point, gasping and looking on in worried horror as the battle played out._

_Bruce rubbed his chin as the two men glared at each other, the air alight with rage and loathing. Red sprung forward, knocking the king's feet out from underneath him. He turned and reached out to take Robin into his arms, but Bruce grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down before jumping to his feet and wrapping his thick fingers around his throat. He roared angrily and flung the green-eyed servant, a sickening crack echoing throughout the room as his skull made contact with the limestone wall._

_Robin rose to his unsteady feet, staggering after his father, whom was dragging Red from the room, still naked and soiled. He bit back the bile that rose in this throat, pain, rage, and grief also bubbling up in his chest. He could feel the bruise forming along his cheekbone and jaw, but he ignored it, crushing it down into the recesses of his mind._

"_Father!" he cried, pushing the man's broad, rippling back. Bruce turned to regard him with blazing eyes, the usual navy-blue darkened to black. Robin stepped back in alarm, never feeling as scared of his own father as he was now._

_He reached out to gently touch the man's flexing bicep with a trembling hand, silently pleading for him to release Red, but the man grabbed him by the arm and threw him to the floor. He glared fiercely at his son before spinning on his heel and striding down the hall, the unconscious Red dragging behind him, head lolling against his naked chest._

"_Father, no!" Robin shrieked as he lay on the floor, the stark-white sheets slipping from his fingers and pooling around his hips._

_He screamed and cried out for his father, his lover, anybody, as he slumped forward, laying on his side against the stone. He drew his legs up, the sheet shifting so nearly all his pale skin was bared to the world, only his pelvis being covered. Sobs wracked his small frame, infuriated tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto the limestone with silent splashes._

_Robin whimpered and wailed loudly as a pair of arms wrapped around him, hands carding gently through his hair. He recognized the warm hold as being that of his two favorite personal servants, and he leaned into their embrace. They crooned reassuring words into his ears as he cried bitterly, brushing his hair back from his forehead and brushing the tears from his reddened cheeks._

_He clung to their soothing voices as he dropped into oblivion._

Robin hadn't seen Red since that faithful day. The redhead had been exiled. Robin wasn't even sure if he was still alive. For all he knew, his father could have lied and merely dropped Red off in the middle of the desert to die from starvation and dehydration, withering away like a leper.

He knew that if Bruce ever found out that he had shared a kiss with Slade, nothing short of the gods' sweet miracles could save the man. He would be torn limb from limb and sent back to his home soil in a burlap sack. There was no doubt in his mind that his father would not tolerate his only son making the same mistake twice, and Robin couldn't stand to suffer with more memories of warm kisses and lingering touches. He didn't think he could survive it.

Not a day went by that Robin didn't think of the tall, handsome teen. Not a day went went by that he didn't wish he could gaze into those dark, moss-green eyes; run his hands through that long, copper-colored hair; kiss those warm, eternally-chapped lips; be enveloped in those strong, protective arms; fall asleep together in a sea of blankets, naked bodies intertwined in the most intimate of ways.

They were going to be wed. Red had planned it for months, from the rings to their getaway. They were going to run away, back to Red's native country to the small house that was left to him by his late grandmother and live happily ever after. Robin had cried when Red told him that he had begun to save his pay since the day they first met, saying that he knew they were meant to be together.

A single tear dripped down his cheek.

Robin, noticing the absence of the blazing sun, merely sat back against his tree's strong trunk. Garfield's tail was still wrapped loosely around his neck, and he allowed his hand to drop from the soft green fur, suddenly feeling so very small as he gazed up at the thousands of stars that painted the sky. Somewhere out there, a star burned out, and Robin continued to watch the still living ones while everything else just seemed to evaporate...

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><p><strong>AN: **Well, this was completely useless and mainly filler to add a bit more detail to the background story, and introduce another terrible chapter ending to the world (just what we need)... well, it gets better in later chapters, and yes, Bruce's wrath will definately be back...

'Til next time, reviews make me a happy Gypsy!


	4. Questions and Confrontations

**A/N: **Longest chapter yet, you guys! It's actually 4444 words without the author notes! -grin- So there's only one chapter left, maybe two if I decide to add an epilogue. I might just end it in the next chapter and maybe do a few one-shots to go with this universe. Short, I know, but it was never meant to be long or have an extensive plot.

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><p><strong>Ashes of Paradise<strong>

**Chapter 4: Questions and Confrontation**

Robin nibbled halfheartedly on a piece of tangy mango, head bowed and silky hair slipping down to obscure his eyes. He could feel Slade's own imploring grey eye boring into him, attempting to catch his gaze, but he kept his baby-blues fixed on the bowel of sweet fruits before him.

He already knew what Slade wanted. He knew that he thought Robin was avoiding him, when in truth, he _wasn't_. At least, not completely. He had hidden out in his acacia tree the night before until it was well into the early morning before retreating to his servants' arms and sleeping in a bit. So technically, he hadn't _truly_ been avoiding the man...

"You're oddly quiet this morning, Robin," Bruce rumbled, looking over at his son. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no," Robin smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just a bit tired is all."

_Robin's heart pounded wildly in his chest, matching the beat of his feet, which seemed to fly over the stone of the floor. He wondered if it would leap straight from its prison in his ribcage. The pads of his feet were burning and the tips of his toes were scraped from tripping as he ran down the hallways._

_He turned down the servants' hall and burst through the seventh door down. This startled the two occupants within from their sleep, and they turned to look at him with wide eyes, their forms barely visible through the night's darkness. Once their initial shock wore off and they noticed the distress on their master's pretty face, they jumped up from their beds._

"_Robin, the moon has risen," a raspy voice called from the darkness. "Why are you out of your chambers without us?"_

"_Oh gods, Raven," the young teen cried, and a pale hand reached from the darkness to grab his own, tugging him to its owner's bed. He complied and collapsed onto it, the moonlight dripping into his wide eyes and illuminating both his face and the faces of his two personal servants._

"_Shall I light a candle?"_

"_No need, Kori." Raven placed her hand on Robin's cheek and turned her face towards her. "Robin, what happened?"_

"_He kissed me, Raven. General Wilson kissed me."_

Bruce stared a him for a few more seconds before nodding and turning back to his food. The little prince didn't miss the mixture of worry and suspicion that flashed through the man's navy orbs, and a shiver bolted up his spine. He flicked his blue eyes up, catching Slade's intense gaze this time, and Robin suddenly felt massively restricted, as if he was trapped in a tight space that he couldn't escape.

"_What?" Raven's thin brows furrowed over her dark eyes, their usual violet almost black in the night._

"_I shared lunch with Slade, the American general who has come to establish a alliance between Gotham and America..." When Kori moved to sit on his other side, he accepted her offered shoulder to rest his head on. "We talked for awhile, about our country and his... he has never seen a tiger, you know... and it was nice. _Really_ nice, actually. I have not been able to speak so freely with anybody but you two and Red... and Father at one point..." he trailed off, his throat tightening._

_Both girls nodded in understanding and reached out to wrap him in their arms. He happily accepted the embrace, leaning into their warm bodies as the three long-time friends curled up together._

"_After lunch, I suggested we go for a walk, and we did. It was such a beautiful day, a bit cooler than usual... the gods were kind..."_

"_And he kissed you?"_

"_Yes," Robin squeaked, bewildered, tapping his fingers against his exposed collarbone. "It was... it was _amazing_! It almost felt like _him_..."_

"_Robin, You haven't experienced the touch of a man since Red," Raven explained calmly, stroking his hand with long fingers. "It may be loneliness that made you feel that way."_

"_Maybe so..." Robin sighed, twisting his digits together and biting his lip in a nervous habit he had yet to break himself of. "It just _felt_ real... even for a moment."_

"_What do you plan to do?" Kori questioned softly, running her unearthly-tanned fingers through his gentle black curls. "Surely you must at least speak with him?"_

"_I do not know if I can, Kori," Robin whispered. "I do not want another man to get hurt because of me."_

Slade's brows furrowed in a silent question at the boy's worried expression, but Robin dropped his wide eyes and bit his lip. He twirled a strand of midnight hair around his index finger for a moment before cautiously looking back up. He nodded to Slade, and the man frowned. The teen wasn't quite sure what he was trying to tell the white-haired American, but he knew that Kori was right. Something had to be said.

A few servants hurried over and collected their plates, and Robin smiled slightly at them before darting his eyes from Slade to the hallway. He turned to Bruce and whispered something in his ear. The man nodded at him and fixed an intimidating gaze on Slade.

"Would you care to take a walk with me, General?" Robin asked quietly as Bruce and Wintergreen strode away, chatting in the desert nation's native tongue.

"Of course," Slade replied, sticking to the boy's side and matching his steps.

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><p>A warm breeze drifted through the halls, caressing and embracing anybody who happened to be walking down the white limestone. The leaves of the surrounding flora fluttered and rustled carelessly in the gentle wind, some picking up and carrying along, twisting and twirling like little dancers.<p>

Robin's barefooted steps were silent among the backdrop sounds, while the fall of Slade's light leather boots added a dry padding to the atmosphere. They walked together in what would have seemed like companionable silence to any passerby, but between the two, it was thick and foreboding. If it wasn't for the open-air layout, Slade was pretty sure it would be hard to breath through the tension.

Slade glanced over at his companion, scanning his face for any signs of... well, _anything _really. Unfortunately for him, Robin seemed to be immune to such approaches, and he kept his features schooled into an expression of complete cool. He did, however, notice how one of the teen's hands were twitching, and he looked to down to see the slim digits fiddling with Garfield's ear. Slade was momentarily startled that the huge feline managed to just _materialize_, and he could have sworn that the beast glared at him from the corner of his slitted green eyes.

"Have you ever been married, General?" Robin asked softly, breaking the silence.

The man frowned at the little voice, eyebrows knitting in confusion. Why would Robin ask him such a question, Slade wondered. He couldn't quite grasp any concept that would inspire the seemingly innocent query, but he could hear the underlying tone of pain and misery. He vaguely flirted with the idea that the prince sounded so displeased _because _he was once wed.

"Yes. Her name was Addie," Slade replied slowly, lowering his eye in the hope to catch Robin's roaming gaze. "She died giving birth to my second son."

Robin seemed surprised at the word 'son', judging by the way his wide azure eyes flickered up to his own deep orb before once again fixating on the limestone path.

"So you bear the pain of a lost love?"

"I suppose so, yes..."

"Then you understand why I must tell you to stay away from me."

"Excuse me?" Slade's brows furrowed in confusion and worry, lips curling into a deep frown.

"Keep your distance, General Slade Wilson," Robin said seriously, blue eyes dark in a very unbecoming way, making him look far older than any eighteen-year-old should. "I do not want you to get hurt."

"But-"

"It is in your best interest to carry on with your negotiations, then leave our country. Just... please. I beg of you. I do not wish for you to get dragged into this."

"I must ask why..."

"The only way you will find out is if you get involved, and I will not allow that to happen."

Robin turned and walked away, elegant white robes and massive green tiger trailing in his wake, leaving Slade confused and a bit anxious for whatever was happening. He didn't follow the raven-haired teen, so he was unable to see the bitter tears that dripped down his pale cheeks.

* * *

><p>"... and then he just walked away," Slade finished, rubbing at his weary eye. He ran his hand down his face before carding it through his thick white hair, some of the untamed strands leaning back over his forehead. "I don't know what's happening, Will."<p>

Wintergreen plucked absently at the hem of his thin cotton tunic, eyebrows creased in contemplation. He knew exactly what his old friend was talking about, what was bothering Robin, why Robin wanted Slade gone... but did Slade need to know, he wondered.

"First he's just the sweet, polite prince, then he turns around to tell me that it's in my best interest to stay the hell away from him? People don't just run around themselves like that. Something's wrong in this palace, and I plan to find out what it is."

"What?" Wintergreen's head snapped up. Apparently Slade did need to know, seeing how he looked ready to leap straight into battle to defend Gotham's prince, even when _Robin_ wasn't the one that needed defending.

"I'm going to figure out what has Robin so jumpy," Slade repeated. "Something big is happening in this place. I don't know how many people are in on it or what it is, but it obviously has something to do with us. What if they're planning to take us hostage to further their own domination?"

"Oh, please, Slade," William sighed, rolling his head back. "Gotham may not be peaceful within its own boundaries, but it has no plans of expansion or 'domination', as you so eloquently put it. _That_ is just your paranoia."

"Than what is it?"

"It's..." Wintergreen hesitated, picking his words carefully. "It's not _us_, per se. Or at least it _wasn't_..."

"What do you mean?" Slade frowned, his single eye burning a hole in Will's face.

"This whole thing... Robin acting so jumpy around you? It's because you kissed him."

"Well, I figured that much..." he snorted.

"Yes, but it's not for the reason you think. Robin's not pushing you away for _his_ sake. He's pushing you away for _your_ sake."

"He's told me this already!"

"Would you let me finish?" Wintergreen snapped. Slade's jaw snapped close with an audible click, surprised at his old friend's outburst. William was usually the epitome of calm, always level-headed and patient.

"I'm sorry," Slade said, sounding genuinely sincere. "Please, continue."

"It's alright," Wintergreen sighed, swiping his hand over his face. "This whole situation is just a little fucked up, and Robin knows it too."

The man paused, sighing, before looking Slade straight in the eye with the most serious expression he could muster, which was quite fierce.

"Bruce Wayne is by far one of the richest men in the world," Wintergreen began. "He runs a steady empire and has kept it working efficiently with proper economics and crime-control for many years. Being so prosperous, Bruce doesn't have to worry about Robin being deprived of anything, but a little extra money never hurts, right?"

Slade nodded in agreement, not quite understanding where Will was heading with this.

"Which is why it's common for kings and queens to marry their children off to _other_ royal children," Wintergreen said. "That, and to keep royal blood from veering off into peasantry."

"Seems a bit shallow..." Slade muttered.

"Yes, well, these are the highest members of society. It's expected of them to be shallow."

"Where is this going, now?"

"Right. Anyway, as I was saying, it's not uncommon for royalty to mix their children in order to continue the rich bloodline. It is, however, a bit more uncommon for kings to _sell _their children to other higher-ups in order to further their wealth and allow the other family to mix blood."

"_Selling children_?" Slade gaped. "Just for money and 'mixing blood'?"

"Yes," Wintergreen nodded. "As I've told you many, _many _times..." he glared a bit, his voice taking on a scolding edge, "customs here are very different from our own."

"So what does this have to do with Robin?"

"Besides the fact that Bruce wants to sell him?"

The was a few moments of stretched silence before the statement finally settled past the one-eyed man's thick skull, and his mouth opened and closed like a beached goldfish.

"Bruce is _selling _him?" Slade growled, clenching his hands so tightly against the armrest that his knuckles turned snow-white.

"Well, I'm not sure if he is anymore, after what happened with Red..." Wintergreen murmured absently.

"Red?" Slade relaxed his fingers, bewildered. "Who's Red? Is he why Robin was asking me about being married?"

"Red's the reason for _all_ of this," Wintergreen said. "Back when Bruce was planning to send Robin off, to who I don't know... Robin was secretly seeing a man without anybody but his two personal servants knowing. Red was also a servant here, so he saw Robin every day, furthering their relationship under Bruce's own nose. They excelled far enough for Red to plan their escape from the clutches of this palace and save enough money to buy Robin an ample wedding ring. Bruce, meanwhile, was coordinating a trade for his son. He was to be given nearly half of a massive empire, but only because Robin was a virgin. Unfortunately, Bruce ended up catching Red and Robin together. Robin had lost his innocence to a servant, and he was no longer worth selling."

"No longer worth selling?" Slade echoed.

"Meaning it would be more profitable just to keep Robin where he was," Wintergreen replied.

"Now what happened to Red?"

"I was getting to that," the man chuckled lowly. "Red was hauled off and supposedly exiled, but no one's truly sure what happened to him. He could be dead as far as this palace in concerned."

"So what does all this have to do with me...?" Slade questioned slowly, sounding as if he wasn't truly sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Because if Bruce were to find out that you have also laid hands on his son, you'd end up just like poor Red."

Slade sat back heavily in his chair, feeling rather exhausted for a man who had been doing nothing but listening to a friend explain a situation. No matter _how_ complicated that situation happened to be.

"So Robin..." the white-haired American said softly, eye fixed on the stone floor. "He's trying to protect me?"

"Yes."

"But I don't need protecting."

"Oh, you _will_ if Robin's father ever finds out you molested his baby," Will snorted. "Bruce Wayne isn't called the Batman for shits and giggles."

"What?" Slade looked at him oddly. "The _Batman_?"

"You never listen to me!" Wintergreen threw his hands up. "Yes, _the Batman_. And do you know _why_ he's called that?" Slade stared at him. "Because of his blood-lust, Slade. Because of his blood-lust. Anybody who messes with _him_ will die... but his _son_? He will _destroy _you."

"The Batman..." Slade snorted with repressed chuckles. "How ridiculous..."

"_Slade_!"

"What? I _heard_ you!"

"Apparently not!" the older man shouted, exasperated. "You should be finding a way to flee the country without raising suspicion, not sitting here and... and _making fun_ of the king that's going to _kill_ you and then _mock_ you by paying for your _funeral_!"

"He's not going to _kill_ me, William," Slade replied calmly.

"And what makes you so sure?" Wintergreen crossed his arms defiantly over his broad chest.

"Because Bruce is never going to find out."

"Oh, really now?" the blond's lips quirked into a condescending smile. "And how do you plan on keeping it from him, hm?"

"Well, Robin and Red apparently managed to keep _their _relationship secret long enough for them to plan their runaway marriage, so why can't I?"

"You're planning on _marrying_ him?"

"I've only formed this plan within the last two minutes, so I haven't exactly gotten that far."

"What am I going to do with you?" Will rolled his green eyes to the heavens, shaking his head.

"You might want to focus on what we're going to do with _Robin _instead..." Slade smirked.

* * *

><p>Robin shivered.<p>

He had been on edge ever since he fled from Slade a few hours prior. He was feeling beyond paranoid, his skin crawling as if he was being watched constantly. He didn't know if he would turn a corner and find his father standing there, dragging a bruised and bloodied Slade by the collar. The thought of another man losing his life because of him made Robin ill, and he paused in his destination-free walk to breathe evenly for a few moments.

The breeze picked up again, grasping gently at his midnight-colored hair and twirling the short locks around. He was amused by this for a bit until he lost interest and instead turned his attention to Garfield, who gazed up at him from his spot by Robin's feet.

"Hello, sweet boy," Robin cooed, petting the giant creature's silky fur. "I believe we should head back to bed for a nap. I did not sleep too well last night."

Garfield blinked lazily and rose to pad after him, keeping close to his side. He nipped at his prince's fingers, making him giggle and bat at his cold nose. Robin patted his flexing shoulders as they walked along, turning down the corridor that led to his room. He paused and allowed Garfield to enter first before doing the same.

Closing the double-doors quietly behind him, Robin sighed and curled up on his bed, the thin sheets cool beneath the skin not covered by his robes. Garfield climbed up and laid next to him, butting his muzzle under the teen's chin. He purred loudly as nimble fingers massaged the base of his round ear, his throat vibrating with a deep thrum.

"Robin?" There was a soft knock at the doors. "Can I talk to you?"

The raven bolted upright on his bed, and Garfield growled, curling his heavy body around his hips. Robin calmed him with a tender hand before sliding from the silky sheets and slowly padding to the door. He reached out for the handle, hesitating a moment before wrenching the door open an inch, glaring through the crack.

"What in the gods' names are you doing?" he hissed, baring his white teeth as he glanced worriedly down the hall.

"I've come to talk about us," Slade said, muscling his way past Robin and into the bedroom. The young man sighed and clamped his eyes shut before opening them again and glowering at the general.

"_Us_?" Robin arched a dark brow. "There is no _us_, General Wilson."

"Robin, please..." Slade lowered himself into one of the plush chairs in the seating-area. "Wintergreen told me everything that happened with Red and your father."

"William?" Robin questioned, baby-blues widening. "Damn that man... what foolish idea has he instilled in your mind?"

"Don't blame Will. He tried to explain why I should stay away."

"And you did not listen?"

"I'm not exactly known for my attentiveness..."

Robin laughed that airy, musical laugh that made Slade grin stupidly. He shook his raven head, rubbing an elegant hand over his forehead before lifting his gaze to meet Slade's own single grey eye. He looked the man up and down before sighing and taking the seat opposite, deciding to humor his guest like any good host would.

"Your plan, crazy man?" Robin tilted his head, disheveled black hair flopping into his eyes.

"My plan..." Slade stood and lowered himself to one knee before the prince, taking Robin's hand in his. "Well, it's not really much of a plan as of now. Honestly, I only got as far as asking your permission to kiss you again."

Robin stared at him with wide, surprised eyes. Emotions bubbled up in his chest, clogging his throat and stifling his voice. He wondered why Slade was so insistent upon seeing him, and he wanted so badly to comply with his wishes. He had instantly adored the man the moment he first laid eyes on him, and he knew that this was how Red must have felt whenever they were together.

"Robin?"

Gotham's prince blinked rapidly and nodded ever so slightly. Slade cupped his cheeks in his rough, battle-hardened hands before slowly leaning into his personal space. He hesitated when their lips were a mere hair's length apart before steeling his resolve and pressing forward. Robin sighed and wrapped his arms loosely around Slade's chest as their lips meshed together, his fingers clutching at the back of his tunic. Their lips parted and tongues hesitantly met, tasting pressing against one another.

When they pulled apart for air, lips hovering just above the other's, Robin blinked and released the American from his hold, instead moving his hands to Slade's hard chest.

"W-wow..." he whispered. "I... I believe your plan may have worked, General."

Slade chuckled and brushed a thumb over the boy's smooth cheek before pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

"That'll show William to doubt my intellect," he grinned.

"It is understandable that he does such a thing."

Slade frowned. Hadn't things been going well?

"Excuse me?"

"You said that William told you about Red..." he said expectantly, and Slade nodded in agreement. "So why are you doing this then? Only a fool would pursue such a fruitless endeavor... Surely-"

"Robin," Slade interrupted, gripping the teen's hands tightly, "do you believe in love at first sight?"

The little bird bit his tongue in his haste to close his loose jaw. His eyes were round and he pulled back enough to take in the man's whole expression. He cataloged the mixture of affection, worry and _hope_, the same hope that had long ago been pushed into the back of his mind.

"Y-yes... yes, I do," Robin whispered softly, hesitantly.

"I didn't... until I met you, that is..." Slade planted a gentle kiss on each of his soft fingertips. "Your father... he is a good man... but he's been blinded by greed. Selling you? The thought alone makes me shudder."

Robin flinched at the mention of his father, and he withdrew his slim hands from the man's grasp.

"William told you about that?" he asked, voice barely audible against the background noise of the palace.

"He told me _everything_."

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Robin quickly rose from his seat, nearly bowling Slade over in the process.

"You have to understand, Slade..." Robin pleaded, clasping his hands together. "My father... everything he does is for me. If he believes that sending me off to be wed is in my best interest, than I will happily follow his orders."

"But he's not 'sending you off', he's _selling _you..." he growled in distaste.

"It is not like that..." Robin said meekly.

"Robin... _little bird_..." When Robin flinched at the pet-name, Slade reassured him with a soft look. "You're such a kind, beautiful boy... and I _love _that about you... but you're so smart too. _I _know that _you _know what he's doing is wrong."

"Of course I know!" the azure-eyed teen snapped, tangling his fingers in his short hair. "But this is my _home_, Slade... my _father_..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Our country is not like yours. Selling your child can be taken two ways: you are doing it purely for money to satiate your greed, or you are doing it to lock in your child's financially-level future. My father is doing it for _both_, Slade, and that is enough for me... I _know _he is because he _loves _me. It may look like greed to you, but it looks like _love_ to me."

Slade heaved a sigh and brushed a hand over the back of Robin's neck when he turned to gaze out one of the many windows carved into the wall. He gripped the pale column, whether in calming or malice manner, he didn't know, and the royal Gothamite shuddered. Slade wouldn't hurt him. He could feel it.

"_You_ may believe that, Robin," Slade began, "but you're _young_. You still insist on pointing out the good in people and you tend to turn a blind eye to the bad. I'm not so lucky. I pay more attention to the bad, which keeps me alive in the outside world."

"This is not the outside world, Slade," Robin said quietly. "It does not get more inside than this."

"And I'm not denying that," the man chuckled. "I'm just trying to tell you that your love for Bruce is keeping your from seeing what he's really trying to do. He was serious enough about all this to _exile _your lover. He's not fooling around."

Robin looked away, refusing to meet his gaze, and Slade sighed again. He stood behind the little prince and set his hands gently on his slender hips. His fingers settled over the outline of his stomach, and he could feel the muscles there tense and roll under the surface of the alabaster skin hidden beneath his robes.

"You are right..." Robin whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. "I... I _know _you are right, but I... I just cannot imagine my own father doing such a thing to me for his own gain."

"I know..." Slade murmured, leaning down to plant a warm kiss behind his ear.

"I have been wary since Red..."

"I know..."

"But I thought it would just blow over..."

"I know..."

Robin turned in his arms, pressing his hands to Slade's chest and looking into his single slate-grey eye with such emotion that the white-haired man was taken aback and froze in place, lost in those ocean-deep orbs.

"What do I do?"

"You run," Slade whispered. "You run away. With _me_."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Notice that Cyborg is nowhere in here. Poor guy. Some of you may be wondering why I used Bruce, Starfire and Beast Boy's real names, but Robin, Raven and Red X are called just that... well, I did it because I'm lazy. Obviously Beast Boy doesn't make sense because he's just a tiger, not a changeling, and I figured if Robin could be a bird, why not Raven too?

Well, one (or two) more (terrible) chapter(s) to go! Catch ya later!


	5. Bending and Breaking

**A/N: **Alrighty, so I am still alive! I know there was a good few months where there was no updating... but I'm here now, and I come bearing Sladin! I know that I said one or two chapters earlier, but this story seems to have taken on a life of its own and has suddenly become four or five _more_ chapters... Hope you're here for the long-run!

Longest chapter yet, my lambs!

* * *

><p><strong>Ashes of Paradise<strong>

**Chapter 5: Bending and Breaking**

Robin stared at him for a moment before his pink lips twitched and he was suddenly giggling. His giggles escalated until he was almost doubled over and there were tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He removed his hands from Slade's and wiped at the beading moisture, his laughter dying down.

"I am sorry," he gasped, but his grin showed that he wasn't purely apologetic. "It is just that... you want me to run away!"

Slade's brows furrowed, unsure of how to go about this. He sure as hell wasn't expecting an amused reaction. Perhaps part of him had hoped that Robin would have thrown himself on the bed and begged for his hero to take him, but he crushed that little voice until it evaporated. This was not a trashy romance novel. This was _reality_, and, in all honesty, he found it easy to lose interest in that deprived fantasy. Looking at the boy, all Slade really wanted was for Robin to smile again, because _fuck_, he was beautiful when he tossed his head back like that and laughed so freely.

"Well, I told you that it wasn't much of a plan yet..." Slade mumbled, somewhat defensively. Robin noticed the change in his demeanor and touched his arm, rising up on his tiptoes to kiss his cheek with gentle lips.

"It is a wonderful plan, crazy man," the prince said, lowering his azure gaze. "It is just not realistic. I cannot simply pick up and leave! This is my kingdom, Slade! At least it _will_ be..."

"And I understand that," Slade replied, trying to reason with the teen, "but the man is just _using _you, Robin. You're his _son_, not some... some _plaything_!"

"I am not his son!" Robin shouted in a sudden bout of uncharacteristic anger, causing the American to step back slightly. "I am not his son..." His voice dropped. "My parents were killed when I was eight years old. I was an orphan, a broken child unable to fend for himself... yet Bruce Wayne accepted me without expecting a single thing in return. He provided me with shelter and food and _love_. He gave me a life that only existed in my _dreams_. I owe him everything... I cannot deny him his wishes."

"That's ridiculous!" Slade blurted. When Robin's expression darkened drastically, the general was quick to explain himself. "He may have taken you in during your time of need, but that doesn't give him the right to throw you away when his funds run low. He is your _father_, blood relation or not, and a father does not _sell his son_. He doesn't care what happens to you, Robin!"

Robin remained silent, choking under the words that hung thick and heavy in the warm air. His shoulders fell, and Slade could see the boy withdrawing, closing himself off and shutting Slade out. His blue eyes flicked away, moving to look at the vibrant leaves that swayed and danced in the desert breeze outside the window.

He had hurt the boy's feelings, Slade realized. He had forced Robin to confront a fact he had been pushing away for what could have been many years, a fact that Robin refused to accept. This caused the Gothamite to fall behind his mask, his eyes lit with a sudden chill that seemed so out of place in those expressive orbs.

"I think it would be best if you were to leave."

Slade frowned at the whispered statement, studying Robin's face. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his eyes were rimmed with hot tears he refused to shed in the presence of his current company. His fingers were curled into fists at his side, and Slade felt the sudden urge to grab them, to reassure Robin that he was only trying to help.

But right now he was only hindering.

Giving a curt nod, Slade strode out the door, leaving Robin frozen behind him.

* * *

><p>Angered at having been called out on his meticulously crafted charade, Robin threw himself onto his bed, driving a fist into one of the pillows. He knew Slade was right, knew it in his <em>mind<em>, but he could not bring his _heart_ to believe it. His heart wanted nothing more than to find Bruce and crawl into his strong arms, feel that once-present safety and contentment.

How long had it been since he felt that way?

A very long time, Robin decided as he curled up on his side, tucking his arm beneath the pillow on which his head rested. He had discovered a certain sense of fear since the incident with Red, but he had hidden it behind his mask of serenity. Of course it had always been there, that underlying wariness and anxiety, but he had brushed it off. He could not show his father that he was worried. It would only spark that familiar suspicion, and the last thing Robin wanted was for Bruce to realize that said suspicion was appropriate, that something secretive was indeed going on within the walls of his own palace.

He had made a mistake with Red. The young man had been there, an escape from the rich, haughty society in which he presided. He was simple and refreshing, a bright ray of sunshine in Robin's otherwise darkened world. He had taken that light and clung to it, letting the hope of acceptance and escape wash over him. Red would hold him, love him, tell him how much he was worth, and that was something Robin needed when all he seemed to be worth to Bruce was half a kingdom and a dozen chickens.

Unfortunately, Red had been dragged into Gotham's revolting underworld and been taught firsthand that money truly was everything. He had fought tooth and nail for Robin, and the prince would be forever grateful to his spirit, but he had lost in the end, just as society dictated he would, because he was a servant, and a servant could not defy his king.

After Red, Robin finally uncovered the deep, dark secret that his adoptive father had been hiding. He wanted to sell the boy, and, to Robin, that was the ultimate betrayal. After having one family torn away from him, he was not willing to lose another. He would do anything to protect the ones he loved, even give his own life, if need be, but throwing away one's kin?

Such a disgusting world, Robin reflected. This society was built on fear and lies, and it terrified him. This was not his nature, his home. He was raised on the side of the road, his little family having always been on the move. He thrived under warm praise and affection, which was plentiful within the family of three, and that had once been something that Bruce had been more than willing to give.

But the past was past.

Was the whole world like this? In Robin's mind, it couldn't possibly be, not with people like Slade out there. The man was amazing. He protected what he loved and fought with all he had. He was gorgeous and brilliant, yet even with such mental strength and physical refinement, he managed to remain humble. In Robin's eyes, he was a god.

But what of Robin? He was but a lowly orphan sheltered behind the golden walls of a two-faced king. Why would handsome, honorable Slade care for _him_? He was a charity case, a liability to all those around him. He had once been so strong, so proud and fearless, but that had all been stripped away from him the day that Italian lord laid eyes on his parents.

Why was he allowed nothing?

_Pathetic. Pity will do you no good._

Zucco may have stolen his family's _lives_, and Bruce may have erased his family's _name_, but he would not quit. He was a Grayson, and Graysons did not go down without a fight.

Robin wiped his tears away.

* * *

><p>Slade once again found himself wandering through the courtyard, boots dragging against the white limestone path. The sun smiled down on him with enthusiasm, making him wonder how it could shine so happily when the world of a young boy was slowly crumbling down around him.<p>

He felt guilt bubble up in his chest at the thought of Robin's devastated baby-blues. He hadn't meant to upset the teen, really he hadn't, but the topic of Bruce Wayne and his shady transactions was apparently a very sensitive point. Slade wasn't sure how to go about bringing the topic up without Robin flashing that filthy temper of his.

He cared about the prince, Slade reluctantly admitted to himself. It was slightly scary, knowing that it took a meager two days for him to fall under Robin's spell. What would happen within the two weeks that negotiations were spread across? Would he make love to the blue-eyed beauty? _Propose_? He had already been married once, and that had certainly ended poorly.

Robin was a wonderful boy, and any man to have him would be one lucky son of a bitch. At the tender age of eighteen, the raven-haired Gothamite was breathtaking, a delicious addition to his intelligence and humor. His grace and dignified poise drew Slade in like no one before ever had, and it was a bit unnerving to the white-haired male. He was not known for being a social person in general, let alone a man of stable relationships or intimacy.

Slade sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

What could he do now? He had tried to enlighten Robin to the situation he was currently buried in, only to find that the teen was well aware the details. It was obvious to the man that Robin's denial towards his father's two-timing ways were causing him a good amount of pain. Those bluer-than-blue eyes, as bright and optimistic as they were, held endless untold sorrows. It was sad really, seeing such youthful orbs deepened with unfortunate pain that came only with inhumane treatment.

Another sigh escaped his sun-parched lips.

* * *

><p>Wintergreen looked up from his book when a knock sounded at his door. Surprised and wondering who was visiting him in his borrowed chambers, he marked his page and set the leather-bound book onto the small table between the chairs of the lounge. He straightened his tunic and brushed his hair back before pulling the door open, a smile on his face.<p>

"Robin?"

The man's face fell as his eyes met those of the timid-looking prince.

"Ah, hello, William," Robin said, voice soft. "Are you... are you busy?"

"Uh, no," Wintergreen said, voice tinged with worry as he looked the boy up and down. "Please, come in."

Stepping aside, Will invited Robin into his quarters. The teen shuffled into the lounge and tentatively took a seat, tangling his fingers together as he watched Wintergreen do the same. They sat in silence for a few moments, the elder allowing the younger a few moments to collect his thoughts.

"I..." Robin paused, suddenly tongue-tied. "I have... had a recent revelation..."

"Oh?" Wintergreen raised a brow, gently urging the royal-blooded bird on before he could lose his nerve and shut him out.

"Yes," the eighteen-year-old nodded, eyes locked firmly onto the stone floor that chilled his bare feet. "General Slade... he has spoken to me and... he has forced me to acknowledge an issue I have been trying to avoid for a very long time."

"Slade?" William sighed in exasperation. "Anything that man has told you, just-"

"No, William, please!" Robin pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as the blond fell silent. He took a deep breath before folding his hands back in his lap. "It was not Slade's fault. He was simply trying to assist me in seeing the error of my ways."

"Is this... is this about your father?" Wintergreen asked, sounding somewhat unsure of himself. The American adviser knew that Robin had a tendency to get quite upset when Bruce was brought up. The man was a sore spot, the most tender after the boy's parents.

"It is," Robin confirmed, his voice strong. "I have realized that... perhaps Gotham is not the most appropriate place for me. I do not wish to be given away to a man I do not know, let alone love, and that is exactly what will happen to me if I remain in this palace."

"Robin, please consider-"

"William, I am _dying_ here," the prince pleaded, and Wintergreen knew he was doomed to crumble when those huge blue eyes landed on him. He could see the exhaustion, the shattered faith that swam in the ocean-deep depths, and it broke his heart to see such a young face marked with the tragedies most adults would never face.

Wintergreen sighed and dragged his hand through his short blond hair. He leaned back in his chair and carefully examined the desert-dweller before him. He had known Robin since he was eight, back when Bruce Wayne had first drawn the devastated child into his home after the loss of his parents. Those ten years, dotted with visits to check in on the kingdom and its newest inhabitant, gifted him with the ability to read Robin like a book. He was good at hiding his feelings, but only to certain people. He was destined to reveal his insides to his two beloved servants and William himself, and now it seemed as if Slade had managed to weasel his way into the barricaded group.

He cared about this child. Though he had spent a majority of the ten years in his own country, he had still watched the little bird grow, watched him spread his wings, and Robin was the pride and joy of the entire kingdom. He hated to see his energetic, optimistic outlook dulled by many years of deprivation and disappointment.

"What did you have in mind?" Will sighed when he finished processing the situation.

"I... I do not know," Robin admitted, fiddling with the hem of his sheer white robes. "Slade came to me, and he offered to bring me with you to America, but... but I am not sure." He gripped his head in both hands for a moment before running his fingers through his midnight-colored hair. "I am not sure of anything anymore. William, please tell me what to do..." His voice cracked as frustration dripped from his lips.

"Robin..." Wintergreen's brows creased as he watched the brokenhearted boy released his bottled emotions. He moved from his chair to Robin's, sitting on the arm and drawing Robin into his side. The doe-eyed prince curled into him, fingers clinging to his cotton tunic with all the strength he could muster.

"I do not like this feeling, William," the teen choked out, violent sobs wracking his thin frame.

Wintergreen bit his tongue and held the trembling form closer. He knew that Robin had not cried since Red's disappearance, knew that Robin would not allow himself the luxury of tears when the one he loved had no life from which tears could stem. He was a selfless, kindhearted creature, but sometimes it was to the point of foolishness, and Will would be lying if he said he wasn't somewhat pleased that Robin finally faced all that his adoptive father was doing.

"You don't have to feel like this anymore," Wintergreen said, feeling a stab of guilt and reluctance in his chest. Was he really going to aid his old friend's son in running away?

"Tell me..." Robin whispered, pressing his cheek into Will's side and gazing up at him with soulful eyes. A light flickered within the dimmed crystals, a simple spark of hope.

"I'm not going to tell you to do anything," Wintergreen said firmly, squeezing Robin to him. "You don't need me to say anything, because we both know you'll do what you want, whether I approve or not." He smiled when Robin laughed, pleased that his playfully posed words held the tears at bay, if only for a moment. "All I ask is that you think this through before you do anything rash. I know all about the imp under that sweet exterior," Will tapped a finger against Robin's nose, "and I also know that that imp tends to be quite headstrong."

Robin wiped his eyes, a small smile playing across his lips. He looked up at Wintergreen with an expression that shone with gratitude and affection.

"You always know what to say, William," he said with a simper. "So eloquent."

"Well, I wouldn't say _eloquent_," the blond grinned, softening. "But thank you, Robin. You'll think about what I said?"

"I will."

"Promise?"

Robin allowed a tiny smile to flicker over his gentle features, thinking back to an adolescent ritual in America that Wintergreen had taught him when he was just eight years old. He reached out to link their pinkies together, drawing a larger smile to Will's face.

"I promise."

"Why don't you go with your girls for awhile?" Wintergreen suggested, patting Robin's head. "I'll talk to Slade and see what that fool had in mind for his master plan. He's probably drowning in anxiety right now..."

Robin smiled and nodded.

* * *

><p>He needed to go back to Robin, Slade realized with a groan. He didn't fare well under awkward conditions, and the confrontation they would soon have would most definitely be awkward. After thinking long and hard, he had discovered a fresh affection that wrapped around the young prince. This discovery led to a particularly surprising string of <em>other <em>discoveries, most notably a vivid attraction to the boy.

If that wasn't awkward, he didn't know what was.

Slade scowled and scuffed his boot against the ground in a show of bad humor before continuing on his way. The massive palace continued to impress him, so the man took his time exploring the sprawling estate, mapping out more and more of the stone halls in his head. This was a new corridor, empty of other rooms save for a set of massive double-doors he was aware led to the meeting hall and the archways that opened up to the outside.

As he passed the wooden doors that were hinged halfway down the corridor, Slade was caught by the familiar voice of Bruce Wayne. The king must have been in the meeting hall, perhaps consulting with his own advisers and council about the treaty. It seemed a but early, though, as negotiations were not until the following week.

Slowing his pace, Slade leaned a bit closer to the doors. Though he was a very honorable and honest man, Slade Wilson was not above eavesdropping, especially when something as major as a potential national security breech was involved. Underneath 'honorable and honest' lay 'semi-paranoid and wary'. While Wintergreen trusted Gotham's ruler, Slade did not, and the last thing he needed was Bruce two-timing them for his own gain. Slade prided himself on being a good judge of character, and Bruce had a liar's eyes, something that did nothing to ease his worry.

"-on't know if we should trust that General Wilson."

It seemed that the suspicion went both ways.

"He is quite close to William Wintergreen."

"Yes, but _William_ is not the one ogling my son."

And the plot thickens...

Slade shook his head and turned, having heard enough to realize that Bruce may not be plotting against America, but that he was simply a selfish man blinded by his own wealth. Unfortunate, the one-eyed man mused, as Bruce would have made a much better king had he been more aware of others.

Continuing down the hall, Slade wandered where he would find Robin. The boy had full reign over an entire palace that seemed large enough to span the length of Jump City itself. If Robin didn't want to be found, he certainly wouldn't be. With countless rooms to hide in and half the Amazon Rainforest blossoming in the courtyard, the elusive little bird would be tough to catch.

If there was one thing Slade Wilson loved, it was a challenge.

* * *

><p>Two hours.<p>

Two hours and he had yet to find Robin.

"Sneaky little bastard..." Slade grumbled under his breath as he cautiously peeked into yet another chamber. He had been a bit hesitant since he walked straight into that shower room...

Turning into yet_ another _corridor, Slade was relieved to find Wintergreen speaking to one of the many servants that roamed the palace. He briskly made his way over, reaching the other man just as he bid the tan-skinned servant farewell.

"Where is Robin?" Slade asked, voice clipped with irritation.

William paused and raised a blond brow at his friend's rushed breathing and mussed hair. Ever since his friend had gotten the ridiculous idea of prince-napping in his head, he had been rushing about everywhere. Unfortunately, Will was well aware that ideas such as that tended to get trapped beneath that thick skull, present until executed.

"He's down the hall." He frowned before adding cautiously, "Why?"

Slade pushed past him, immediately stalking towards the large double-doors at the end of the corridor. His strides were long and purposeful, a testament to his determination, and Wintergreen hurried after him.

"Hey!" Wintergreen grabbed Slade by the bicep, turning him around. "What the hell is going on?"

"This place takes up the whole goddamn country!" Slade snarled, throwing his arms up and out of Will's grasp. "I need to speak to Robin _now_."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't go in there," the fair-haired man interjected, stepping into his path. After hearing what Robin had to say about the two males' earlier argument, Wintergreen knew how much they needed to sit down and sort things out, but the prince somehow knew Slade would come after him, so he had issued William strict orders to keep Slade away, giving them both some time to cool off.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because he-"

Slade growled impatiently and shouldered his adviser aside, ignoring his angered demands for explanation behind him. He slammed his hands flat to the wood of the doors and pushed the open, muscles bulging under the weight.

A thick pulse of warm air rolled over him as the doors swung on their hinges, revealing the large room they hid. The domed ceiling was impossibly high and supported with arcs of sturdy wood that curved along the stone. The air, heavy with the scent of spicy incense, hung like a blanket around him, heating his lungs and sparking a subtle burn in his nostrils. A deep, exotic melody wrapped around him, consisting of thundering drumbeats and twanging notes. Candles were mounted along the walls and grouped together along the raised platforms that created the stairs circling the room, casting a warm glow over the inhabitants. Slade could make out the forms of broad-shouldered men with various instruments, only a few of which he recognized, along with three others that danced along the lowest area of the mosaic stone floor.

Slade's eye widened.

Robin twisted and twirled with his two servants, his flawless skin a radiant caramel under the candles' amber light. The little flames sent shadows curling around the room, contributing a certain sense of unnerving, otherworldly beauty to the dance. The trio's robes swirled about as they sung, voices dipping and rising as they shifted fluidly through the slow, sensual dance.

Slade was instantly mesmerized, eye locked onto the rocking hips of Gotham's young prince. The bewitching movements, coupled with the heady aroma of incense sent arousal tearing through his veins. Robin's voice was an aphrodisiac to him, seducing him through sound and drawing him in like a starving man to pabulum.

"Do you dare interrupt?" Wintergreen's low voice chuckled in his ear.

Blinking slowly, Slade remained silent, watching with rapt attention as Robin and his two servants slipped into what he assumed was the last sequence of the dance, judging by the quick movements that suggested an abrupt end. Robin's voice rose and fell in pitch, warbling like the little bird he was as he curled his arms upwards and rolled his hips in smooth, practiced motions. The light highlighted his beautiful body, barely clothed in what appeared to be a jeweled loincloth, shadows pooling into the dips and arches of his muscles and bones. The colorful gems that studded the thick leather belt of his covering caught the flickering light, drawing attention to his toned midsection.

With one final sweep of his delectable hips, Robin ended the dance, the ritual punctuated with a strong boom from the chande drums. Gently circling his arms around him before pressing his palms together before his heart, Robin bowed in time with the two women at his sides. His lips curled into a grin, and the Gothamites all abandoned their instruments in favor of clapping and laughing, the silence shattered with their passion. Robin threw his arms up and spun on his toes, the thin gold chains woven into his belt jingling merrily.

"What was _that_?" Slade breathed, breaking from his trance.

"_That _is called dancing, sir," Wintergreen informed him helpfully, lips twitching as he attempted not to smile at his friend's blatant awe.

"I know that, William," the white-haired general said. "I meant, _why_?"

"It is simply for exercise and amusement. Have you never felt the urge to dance, sir?"

"Not really," Slade mumbled. "But it's so complex... if he wanted to dance, why couldn't he do it without his servants and musicians?"

"Well, wouldn't _you _feel silly dancing without music?" Wintergreen said simply, green eyes sparkling with knowing.

As Slade opened his mouth to reply, a voice called, "General!"

"Seems you may speak with him now, sir," Wintergreen said, taking his leave with a small, encouraging smile towards the man.

Slade looked back to see Robin break away from the group, flushed and positively _glowing _with energy. He was gorgeous, and the American suddenly felt a bit of nervousness coil in his stomach. Would Robin still be angry with him?

"Ah, General," the boy said, somewhat breathlessly, as he scampered up the few steps. He stopped before Slade, fumbling to straighten his loincloth and hair. He was blushing furiously, flustered by the state of his sexily disheveled hair and attire.

"Your Majesty," Slade greeted, knowing that the raven-haired teen disliked such formalities. Robin didn't seem upset anymore, so the man thought that he could get away with a bit of teasing. Maybe it would even break the ice a bit and give way to a smooth conversation instead of another battle.

Robin just humphed, lips pursing in strategically veiled amusement.

Slade chuckled and shook his head, appreciating the dull candles. He was worried that his tented trousers would have became much more apparent had there been proper lighting. He was managing to evade the wariness that pressured them from their earlier argument, and the last thing he wanted was to spoil the moment with added sexual tension.

* * *

><p>While Slade thanked the melting candles, Robin thanked the gods above. He rejoiced, pleased that the two males' disagreement seemed to have been put behind them. While he was not a full-blown pacifist, he preferred to avoid confrontation whenever possible, mainly being the one to smooth rough patches over.<p>

"So I... I was hoping that maybe you would have time to talk?" Slade asked him, almost hesitantly.

"Ah, y-yes," Robin replied quickly, a bit embarrassed at the eagerness in his voice. The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself, and he seemed to be doing just that. "Of course."

"Great. Should we, uh... go to your room, or...?"

"Oh." The prince blinked, a bit uncomfortable by the question. While he knew Slade wasn't proposing anything sexual, he still couldn't help but imagine one or two less than innocent situations that could stem from the two of them stepping foot into any room with a bed. "Yes! Yes, that is fine... _private_..." Wow, he regretted those words.

Slade frowned a bit at his awkwardness, no doubt wondering why the poor boy was blushing so deeply and seemed to be trying to disappear straight into the stone floor. He eyed him oddly before brushing the forming tension aside and hoping it wouldn't grow.

Sweeping his arm out in an exaggerated gesture for Robin to step ahead of him, Slade grinned. That grin, so handsome on his chiseled face, eased Robin's discomfort, and he moved his fingers from where they were picking self-consciously at the belt of his loincloth.

He returned Slade's smile with one of his own, then took the liberty of leading the general down the hall to his chambers. He seemed irritated with the winding corridors, and Robin somehow knew that Slade had gotten lost somewhere along the way. Robin ignored the fact that the man was blatantly searching for _him_.

They walked in silence that could almost be called companionable, each lost in their own thoughts. Robin worried over what he was going to tell Slade and how, while Slade combed through various things he could say to convince Robin to join him. Neither knew what they were actually going to do.

* * *

><p>"Uh, so..." Slade paused as he lowered himself into one of the chairs in the lounge.<p>

Robin closed the double-doors behind them before turning to peer at Slade with a light smile. He clasped his hands in front of him, twisting his fingers together.

"So...?" he prompted gently, eyes flicking over to where Garfield was laying on his bed, having woken from a nap when the couple walked into the room. The giant feline blinked lazily at him, and Robin knew that he was also watching Slade carefully from his keen peripheral.

The two males stared at each other for a few minutes, unsure of what to say and afraid to make the situation worse with more poorly chosen words.

"Well, I feel appropriately awkward..." Slade murmured.

Robin, having not heard the man, moved over to the wooden chest in front of his bed. He flicked the golden latch open and lifted the heavy top. He dug around inside until he found an outfit before pushing the jewel-studded belt from his hips, the cloth and leather pooling at his feet.

Slade's eye widened, words dying on his lips.

The prince held the white robes out before him, eying them with an appraising gaze. He nodded in approval and turned to Slade, acting as if he wasn't naked.

"I have spoken with William," Robin informed him, walking past Slade's stiff form and into the adjoined bathroom.

"Oh yeah?" Slade said, voice somewhat strained as he watched Robin through the open door as he fixed his hair in the mirror, his soft body slender and toned and _exquisite_.

"Mhmm," came the hum. Robin made his way back out of the bathroom, his midnight-colored tresses significantly neater than before.

"And what did you two talk about?" While Slade tried to make the question sound casual, it came out much more intrusive than he would have liked. It didn't help that Robin was standing before him, as naked as the day he was born.

"You," Robin replied easily as he stretched his arms upwards, slipping into the airy white robes.

Slade felt rather disappointed as the Gothamite's lovely body was covered by the thin, sheer layers. After the initial disappointment, though, came scolding. He had told himself he would wait for Robin to make a move, if he was interested, of course.

"Me?" he inquired, and Robin shot him an amused look.

"_You_..." the young prince confirmed in a voice that was almost a purr.

Robin tied his usual golden chains around his waist before fixing Slade with sparkling aquamarine eyes. He sashayed over to where the general was seated and stopped before him, their knees touching. He smirked, almost _loudly_, and Slade suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline at the utter rebellion in those gorgeous baby-blues.

Robin kissed him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, I normally don't like my endings, but this one I enjoy. I don't know why I added dancing... I just happened to be listening to Jai Ho by the Pussycat Dolls and bam! Instant sexy-Robin. Seriously, though, if you find the time, YouTube that song and imagine Robin singing and dancing to it. Maybe someone out there will be able to appreciate the image as much as I do... ;)

I know that that whole thing with Robin's parents is a bit vague and confusing right now, but there will actually be more of an explanation later, I promise. All I can tell you now is that Zucco and the Graysons will appear to give some backstory to this AU-Robin. Took me a bit to figure something out, as I've tried to keep this background as accurate as possible when compared to the DC multiverse, but I finally got something that I think you guys'll enjoy.

Anyway, I must be off to study for my midterms tomorrow!

_Review, please!_


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